In a small town, under the fading light of the evening sky, a young man named Marcus sat on his porch, a notebook resting on his knee. The familiar street beyond, once filled with laughter and the sounds of children playing, felt empty now without the presence of his beloved grandmother, Nan. She had been the heartbeat of the family, the one who forged a bond through the simplest of meals—her chicken and rice, which no one could ever replicate.

Marcus felt an ache in his chest as he penned his thoughts. "Hey, can you hear me?" he wrote, hoping the words could somehow bridge the gap between life and death. "You always provided for us, worked three jobs, and never let anyone see your struggles. But now, how can I say goodbye?”

He remembered her strength—how she had endured hardships, moving through life’s challenges with grace despite the chains of circumstance. She had come to their small town, against the backdrop of prejudice, and had worked tirelessly to give her family a better life. Every Sunday, he would sit at the dining table, filled with a warmth that was brought by her presence and her cooking, feeling the weight of each word spoken, each moment treasured.

Time had passed since her departure, and in that space, the family had begun to unravel. Marcus recalled the laughter shared over meals, the conversations that flowed like water. He thought of his siblings, Jessica, Warren, Lauren, and Alex—each grappling with their own grief, but united in their longing for the guiding light that was Nan.

As he wrote, he couldn’t ignore the shadows lurking in their family’s past. Old wounds bubbled to the surface, especially the betrayal from Sonia, who had taken more than her share and left them to pick up the crumbling pieces of their family. Marcus’s heart burned at the mention of her name; she had chosen greed over the love they’d all shared. For her, happiness had been an unattainable whisper, drifting away in the wind.

Determined to honor his grandmother’s memory, Marcus yearned to be the architect of their family’s reconstruction. He penned down his hopes, asking for strength from the universe to mend what was broken, to bring back the vibrant life they once had. “I’ll build this back up, I promise,” he wrote, knowing he owed it to Nan.

With each stroke of the pen, tears fell onto the pages, blending with his words. "Can I say goodbye to you?" he murmured, wishing he could feel her warm embrace just one last time. The stars twinkled above him, and he could almost hear her laugh, a sound that had always warmed the cold nights of his youth.

“I’ll see you when I see you,” he finally wrote, his heart heavy with longing. “But I miss you, oh, how I miss you.” He reflected on their time together, the lessons learned, the unconditional love she had bestowed upon him, even during his rebellious years when he had disappointed her.

As the darkness enveloped him, he realized that grief wasn’t something he could rush. The pain would heal in time, he hoped, but it was the memories of her, the love she instilled in him, that would keep her spirit alive in his heart forever. He would not say goodbye; instead, he would carry her legacy forward, a promise woven into his very being. And so, he closed the notebook, whispering into the night, “I’ll make you proud, Nan.”